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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26225218">A Private Triumph</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSinfulwolf/pseuds/TheSinfulwolf'>TheSinfulwolf</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Amazon Rome [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Original Work</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate History, Amazon, Battle, F/F, Legions, M/M, Party, Slavery, Voyeurism, roman - Freeform</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 10:33:43</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>9,205</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26225218</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSinfulwolf/pseuds/TheSinfulwolf</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>An Amazon Centurion is declared a hero after a vicious battle, and invited to a prestigious party.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Amazon Rome [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1900477</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Prose From the Abyss</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>A Private Triumph</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Author's Note: This little tale is set in an alternative history where an Amazonian Empire spread out from Rome, instead of the Roman empire. So, while did try and get some historical bits in here, there's some stuff I had to change (like the naming convention), or some things I plain got wrong. Still, I do hope you enjoy. Also, be forewarned the start does have some heavy violence.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The line was breaking, and the screams of the wounded flooded the ears of Rhoda Livia Verina. The trumpeting of elephants was a haunting cry across the battlefield as they continued their charge beyond the third cohort of the ninth legion, and into the fourth who were hopefully more prepared. Two full centuries were little more than smashed corpses and mangled wounded.</p><p>Now the infantry were coming in. The rebels letting out their warcries as they rushed the faltered tetsudo of the Amazon line. Shields in front of them, spear tips forward as their feet pounded across the Libyan sands, raising a growing cloud of it behind them, starting to cut off the vision of what lay behind the first line.</p><p>Back of her hand dragging across her face to wipe at the sweat, Rhoda looked to her left, at the gaping hole filled with the bodies of Legionaries. The rebels would pass right on through, and start to flank, to widen the gap.</p><p>“Fifth century, rear two ranks shift left,” Rhoda shouted. The women under her command didn’t question, instead immediately starting to move. The rear two ranks turning to their left and quickly jogging towards the gap.</p><p>Rhoda looked to her side again, met eyes with her fellow centurion in the second century. The woman saw the manoeuvre and lifted her own spatha to acknowledge before she began to bark her own orders.</p><p>The Legionaries were moving slowly over the bodies of the fallen, but they managed to get into position before the Libyan rebel charge hit. Their shields raised, swords brought to bear, pilums readied to be thrown, they waited the next command. Bringing her whistle to her lips, Rhoda flexed her fingers around the hilt of her spatha, waiting for the collision of bodies and steel.</p><p>With a sharp whistle blast, her century threw a volley. The throwing spears sailed at the charging Libyans, smashing into shields and flesh. A dozen fell, many others tossing away their now unwieldy shields. Without a command, the Amazon line braced themselves. Standing in the middle of her now split Century, Rhoda watched over the rim of her shield; no time for a second volley.</p><p>The rebels crashed into the Amazons and fresh screams of pain and death filled the air. Whistled clenched in her teeth, Rhoda caught a spear tip at the edge of her shield. Pushing it aside, she thrust her spatha into the Libyan’s chest. The robes he wore didn’t stop the sharp steel plunging into his ribcage. Using the face of her shield she pushed him off and quickly glanced to either side, inspecting her line.</p><p>They were holding. Their shields keeping the rebels at bay while swords stabbed around to find flesh and spill blood. What dry spots of sand was left was being churned by the spilled gore and stomping feet.</p><p>Blowing her whistle, Rhoda caught an axe in the centre of her shield. The front rank of her century shifted at the blast, moving sideways through the narrow lanes between their comrades. Rhoda’s sword swept upwards, taking off her attacker’s arm at the elbow while the second rank of her century surged forward, shields smashing, swords stabbing. Rhoda finished her opponent with a side swipe of her spatha, splitting his throat open down to the spine. He fell choking on his own blood.</p><p>Another glance to either side. It was getting more difficult to see with the sand rising up around them. She saw a legionary take a spear to her sword arm. She let out a scream, but already those behind were dragging her back into friendly lines, a replacement already stepping in. To the left though, a legionary’s shield was caught and pulled down. A spear thrust inwards, scraping up the centre of her lorica and jamming into her throat. Her eyes went wide and blood poured from her mouth. She tried to fight back, but slumped down on the spear. The rebel didn’t retrieve it in time, the weapon wrenched downwards. It was lost completely from his grip when the dead legionary was shoved forward for the single replacement to step in and plunge her sword into the man’s face.</p><p>“Rear rank, reinforce the left,” Rhoda called out, her soldiers immediately complying with her orders, moving with the discipline they had become renowned for.</p><p>Another glance. The second century was faltering. She couldn’t see their centurion, whether because she was dead, or because of the haze Rhoda couldn’t be sure. She sent out a sharp blast again, changing up the lines. Taking a step back she grasped one of her nearby soldiers and pulled from the line. Pressing her whistle into the woman’s chest, Rhoda had to shout to be heard.</p><p>“Hold this. Until I’m back, you’re in charge.”</p><p>“Yes ma’am,” the legionary shouted back, bringing the whistle to her lips and stepping to where Rhoda had been.</p><p>The Centurion fell back, and started to run. Skirting behind the left side of her own century she moved to close with the other side. Their right was buckling, starting to shrink in length as women were killed. It was creating too large a gasp between the second and fifth centuries.</p><p>A rebel charged through the gap and Rhoda met him with her shield. She felt his elbow crack against the centre boss before she slammed the rim under his chin. Blood and teeth shot out from his mouth before she brought the shield downwards onto his knee and slashed upwards. The blade caught in his armpit and dug deep before she shoved him away and continued on her path.</p><p>Coming up behind the second century she grasped the shoulder of a woman in the rear rank. The legionary turned, blood streaming from a cut along her cheek.</p><p>“Where’s your centurion?” Rhoda barked.</p><p>“Dead ma’am,” the legionary replied, and Rhoda gritted her teeth, her head moving to take in the situation. The rebels were smashing themselves against Amazon shields, but there was so damn many. She looked back, still hearing the occasional trumpet of an elephant, but it was starting to sound as if they’d mostly been dealt with.</p><p>“Get back to the next cohort. Tell them we need reinforcements. And we need them fucking now,” Rhoda said, earning herself a salute before the woman ran off.</p><p>Moving towards the right edge of the spread out Century so she could watch the second and her own women of the fifth, she started calling out fresh commands. Shifting soldiers around to keep the line as stable as she could.</p><p>As the battle continued, and more died, Rhoda spied a man with a lion’s pelt upon his head. The sword in his hand looked Amazon in make. He was shouting though Rhoda couldn’t understand a damn word of it. She could guess though. Glancing to the two centuries she found herself looking over, she saw the women were getting tired and increasingly more bloody. More and more of their number laying dead in the mud.</p><p>They would break, and she would not see her century break under her command. She had one shot if her fucking reinforcements weren’t coming.</p><p>“Reform in single century. Push forward,” she shouted to the second century before taking the few steps necessary to be heard by her own women of the fifth as she called out the command again.</p><p>The response was the seventy four legionaries still alive to let out a single guttural shout. As a single unit, moving together to reform a single century they began to push forward. Climbing over growing mounds of the dead, their sandals pressing down on comrades and enemies alike. Blood flowed over their sandal clad feet as they moved in concert. The usual drumbeat of marching drowned out by the screams and shouts. By the clash of metal, and the slick crunch of bodies underfoot.</p><p>Moving towards the left edge she always occupied, Rhoda found the legionary from before. Stopping the woman for a moment the centurion took her whistle back, before pointing at the rear of the reformed century. The woman didn’t hesitate as she ran to rejoin the others, her shield arm grasping the back of the armour of the legionary before her.</p><p>Rhoda announced her arrival by crashing the top rim of her shield into a rebel’s face. As he fell limply back, the tip of Rhoda’s sword tore through his thigh with a spurt of bright blood. It splashed across her chest, dripping off the edges of her lorica as she placed her whistle back between her lips. She blew harshly, and the first rank twisted and pulled back while the second lunged forward.</p><p>The enemy commander narrowed his eyes, trying to scan the hazy battlefield. His gaze settled on Rhoda, who met it evenly. Blood dripping from her knuckles, she stood spatha in hand, staring him down. At her side, her legionnaires killed yet more of the rebels that had once thought they had the battle won.</p><p>The commander started to moved towards her, when Rhoda blew out a long blast on the whistle. The rear two ranks pulled out their second pilum, and threw, aiming just over their ranks heads. The rebels weren’t ready and fresh screams tore out. The enemy command, striding over towards Rhoda shouted out. Two pilum speared through him and he fell to his knees. Even from here, Rhoda could see him coughing blood as it frothed at his mouth.</p><p>She pulled her eyes away, scanning the battlefield, her century, and blew her whistle. The legionnaires of the fifth and second let out another gutteral shout as the front rank switched back again. Fresher soldiers coming to the fore. Smashing, stabbing. Their sandals pounding into the blood choked mud.</p><p>By the time they reached the commander he was well on his way to Pluto. The Rebel infantry was starting to pull back, trying to hold their shaky formation. The Amazons slowly advanced, the flats of their blades cracking against the edges of their shield.</p><p>The blast of a horn caught Rhoda’s attention. She looked back, and saw shapes appearing amidst the sandy haze. Amazon legionnaires. Judging by how many, the next cohort was pushing up. She smirked and looked ahead, where cavalry was smashing through the back of the enemy’s so called formation. They broke.</p><p>“Bit fucking late,” Rhoda muttered, glancing down at the ground. Beneath her feet was the woman she’d given her whistle to. She let out a sigh as the next cohort pushed past. She felt the stares of others upon her and her women.</p><p>Meeting each stare with one of her own, blood of her enemies and her own soldiers streaming down her face. Her armour. She could taste it on her lips. A fellow centurion stared incredulously at the piles of enemy dead. Hundreds of them. The survivors of the second and fifth knelt to catch their breath.</p><p>“Ma’am?” a legionary said, rising to her feet, moving towards where Rhoda still stood, watching the reinforcements. Fresh, clean.</p><p>“Be ready for further orders. This isn’t done. Not yet,” Rhoda said, her eyes turning to the young woman, her gaze softening.</p><p>The legionary nodded, and moved towards her comrades. Members of both centuries pulling out water skins and bandages to quench thirst and patch wounds.</p><p>Rhoda wasn’t done yet though. As the rest of the legion continued after the breaking rebel forces, she began moving through the two centuries, finding every single fallen soldier she could. Reaching inside their armour she found their signaculum.</p><p>The least she could do now was ensure their families knew the fates of their loved ones. Could get their final payments. Could move on.</p><p>~&lt;&gt;~</p><p>Drinking a glass of water, Legate Maera Aquillia Amantia ran her eyes over the latest reports coming across her desk. She was thankful for the shade of her pavilion, but even that did not stop the oppressive heat of this place. She wasn’t sure anything could, and she was looking forward to returning to the villa she’d been granted while she was here with her legion.</p><p>A legion that had been hit badly these past few months.</p><p>Beside her, Governor of Libya and fellow legate Phaedre Cornelia Alypia stared wide eyed at some of the reports. The woman’s own legion, the eighteenth, was in shambles after the initial onset of the rebellion. It had been embarassing to the Empress, and so she had deemed it fitting for the ninth to come in.</p><p>“You’ve got him,” Phaedre said, and Maera merely nodded, draining her cup. One of her attending slaves quickly shuffled over to fill it.</p><p>“It would seem so. I’ll want that confirmed before anything is sent back to Roma. Last thing we need is an imposter to have taken the fall while the real man runs about Libya. I remember what happened to Hector,” Maera said, taking her refilled cup back from the slave.</p><p>“Hector was just a story.”</p><p>“Stories have lessons if you can find them. What will the stories of this rebellion say? Anything worse than what is already being said in the senate?” Maera said, and Phaedre stiffened. Her eyes narrowed slightly.</p><p>“Don’t worry. I’ll be leaving once I have confirmation of this... Tabnit’s death. I had plans before your failure brought me to this shithole,” Maera said taking some amusement from the curling of Phaedre’s fingers into tight fists. The corners of Maera’s mouth curled, ever so slightly. The governor opened her mouth to speak, but Maera was quicker.</p><p>“If you’ll excuse me. I need to see to my legion,” she said.</p><p>Without a further word she straightened herself and moved to the entrance of her pavilion and out into the sun. The blue cape hanging from the shoulders of her armour swirled in the wind and she squinted against the harsh sun. One of Phaedre’s body slaves came running over with a parasol in hand, but Maera waved them away. It would not do to be seen pampered so by her legion.</p><p>Arete, her Primus Pilus, was soon by her side. A wax tablet in her hands, with all the records of dead, and wounded.</p><p>“How bad?” Maera asked, with barely a sideways glance.</p><p>“Not bad ma’am, with the exception of the third cohort. Third and fourth centuries are wiped out from the elephant charge, their Pilus Prior is dead, along with the second century’s centurion. Many of the centuries sustained heavy losses when the cohort was cut off by the elephants and cavalry flank,” Arete said, reading off the tablet though she knew all the information well. She always made sure to get it right.</p><p>With a heavy sigh, Maera glanced over towards where the dead were carefully being piled on pyres. Tonight they would be burned as their spirits crossed the River Styx. Logically, she counted the money it would cost to recruit and train the replacements she would need if she intended to go north. But she refused to let herself forget these women had fought, bled, and died for Amazonia.</p><p>“Who leads the third cohort now?” Maera asked.</p><p>“A young Centurion, though clearly skilled. Rhoda Livia Verina,” Arete did not need to double check any writing here. She knew each officer in the entire legion. “She’s the one that rallied the second and fifth centuries, and confirmed the kill of the enemy commander.”</p><p>“Confirmed? Tabnit?” Maera said.</p><p>“Yes Ma’am.”</p><p>At this news Maera smiled. Plans already swirling through her head. Letters to be written, palms to grease.</p><p>“I’d like to give her command of the cohort. Do you agree?” Maera asked, looking to her Primus.</p><p>“I do. In the meantime, start getting the legion ready to move. We march at dawn. I hope to be on ships back to Roma within a week,” Maera said, and Arete responded by punching a fist to her chest in salute, then smartly marching off.</p><p>Maera turned and called for one of her tribunes. The young woman, in armour she likely inherited from her mother, came running over. There was excitement on her features. The eagerness of youth, not yet tempered by experience.</p><p>“I want you to find the Centurion Rhoda Livia Verina, and tell her the night after tomorrow she is invited to my villa. As reward for her services,” Maera said, and the young noble woman raised an eyebrow. She was about to salute regardless and run off to complete the order when Maera raised her hand gently.</p><p>“A lesson, for free young one. For one day you will be in my sandals, leading a legion of your own. Treat the women under your command well. Make it that they fight for you as much as the Empire. For that, they will deny Elysium to personally see your enemies to Pluto. This Centurion may be of common birth, but if I’m correct, her deeds may see her made nobility before her career is done,” Maera said, and the tribune nodded, before saluting and running off.</p><p>Maera bit her lip and released it. She was becoming rather excited about the idea of a small private triumph for the young centurion.</p><p>~&lt;&gt;~</p><p>The Legate’s villa overlooked the city of Cyrene, the stone and marble of it’s construction pristine and beautiful compared to much of the sandstone and baked mud the majority of the city was built from. Walking up the paved pathway towards the front doors, Rhoda had a single hand resting on the hilt of her spatha. It was a cool night, at least compared to the scorching heat of day, and the simple blue tunic she wore felt far too simple for where she was headed. She felt entirely out of her element, though she knew the honour that was being bestowed upon her.</p><p>Or perhaps it was simply for the Legate to show off her latest hero to nobility to fawn and drool over.</p><p>Fingers flexing around the hilt of her sword she moved closer to the doors of the villa, walking alongside the marble lined pool that dominated the front yard, a simple fountain gurgling softly in its centre. She took note of the two guards in their black capes, heard the soft notes of music drifting out through the windows. Laughter, and the buzz of conversation.</p><p>Forcing herself to let go of the spatha in case she gave the guards the wrong idea, Rhoda moved between them and introduced herself. The two women nodded, and gestured for the Centurion to let herself in. She gave each a gentle nod of the head and walked up the three steps and opened the doors.</p><p>Out poured the scents of incense, the noise of the party growing now that she was walking inside. Through a small ante chamber where a barely clad slave man bowed to her. His body glistened, lathered in oils. Rhoda could guess what his duties would be later this evening, and started to wonder what she’d gotten herself into.</p><p>Proceeding into the central room, she spied women and men of high class. Some Amazons, some Libyans. Dressed impecably in vibrant colours and silks, all layered to show a curve, or skin, without being immodest. Though, Rhoda wondered if commoners would see this as modest at all. One woman’s left breast was nearly falling from her dress though it seemed the garment was designed that way. A man’s toga was cut in such a way that the midriff parted to show the dip in flesh from his hip to just before sprouts of pubic hair would be seen.</p><p>Standing in the door in her simple tunic with a sword at her hip, Rhoda let out a breath. She was less nervous out in the sands. At least there she was trained for. Here, was a pit of vipers, and she had no knowledge on how to keep herself alive. A blade was very little defence. She let her eyes sweep through the room, and over those that crammed within its walls.</p><p>There were six exits, including the one she stood in. The others though each had a curtain of silk obscuring the view of what lay beyond. Occasionally one would shift to allow a well dressed guest, or a barely clad slave to move through.</p><p>In the centre of the room was a shallow pool, maybe ankle deep, that had a marble column at each corner. It its centre was a small platform, where a pair of men, naked and painted gold, gently ran hands over each other. Their cocks erect, gliding against the body of the other. Their expression was impossible to tell through the pristine white masks they wore, but their bodies were fine displays of muscle and sexual appeal. Even Rhoda found her eyes lingering a moment before continuing on, reminded of such displays her own husband had made for her back in Roma.</p><p>“Ah. My guest of honour,” the voice was clear above the buzz of the crowd, and it commanded respect. Rhoda’s eyes easily found her legate standing at the far end of the room. She was clad in ceremonial armour, that accentuated her breasts far more than would be practical in battle. Still, the sword she wore at her own hip looked real enough, and the cape at her shoulders was a beautifully rich blue.</p><p>She moved through the crowd, cutting through the pool, uncaring about the water splashing up her calves. People stared, many whispered. Rhoda knew it was a play on Maera’s part. Soon the Legate was standing just before the centurion, clapping her hands on Rhoda’s biceps. The centurion stared, unused to such familiarity from the legate.</p><p>With a smile, Maera turned, easing Rhoda forward a few steps.</p><p>“Let me introduce the Pilus Prior of my third cohort, Rhoda Livia Verina. The woman who stayed her ground against Tabnit’s full army, and slew the rebel,” Maera said, earning applause from the crowds. Wide eyed, Rhoda let her gaze flitter among the guests.</p><p>Soon though, the applause died down, and the people went back to their conversations and their wine. The men on display continued to grind against one another, one’s hand finding the cock of the other and stroking gently, their painted skin glinting in the light of the torches.</p><p>Turning to the centurion, Maera smiled again, her hands running along Rhoda’s arms.</p><p>“As I have said, you are my guest of honour here. You have done well in service to the Empire. My home is yours, as are its delights. Wine, baths, men,” Maera said, her hand sliding up to run a finger along Rhoda’s jaw, guiding the woman’s eyes towards the display in the centre. Rhoda watched a moment, admiring the bodies moving with perfect co-ordination that had earned more than one set of lustful eyes.</p><p>Rhoda’s eyes soon moved though. First to a noble woman watching her from across the room. Her red and orange dress clung to her, displaying her curves and a swath of flesh. When their gazes met, an almost predatory smirk curled the woman’s lips, and Rhoda felt her breath catch. Something the legate noted.</p><p>Then a silk curtain shifted. A young woman stepped out, with the butterfly tattoo on her shoulder that marked her as a body slave. Her simple garb barely hid anything, and Rhoda found herself staring longer.</p><p>“And women,” Maera said with her own coy smirk. Rhoda looked at her, and Maera pressed a finger to her lips.</p><p>“Enjoy the party. I will send Iphiss to attend you later in the bath,” the Legate said, letting her arms slide free from Rhoda’s own. The centurion looked to the Legate, and had to stop herself from saluting. It seemed improper in here.</p><p>“Thank you ma’am,” she said instead, just before Maera plucked two cups full of wine from a nearby slave’s tray. She presented one to Rhoda, then, with that smirk of hers, slid back into the crowd.</p><p>Letting out a low breath, Rhoda took a long pull of her wine. It was rich, smooth. Much better than the sour stuff she had pounded back when she was but a legionary. She finished the cup quickly, and went to find another tray carrying slave. Exchanging empty cup for a full one, she looked around again. Best to make the most of her time here at least.</p><p>Letting her eyes glide to the erotic display in the centre of the room, she sidled up beside a pair of men who were enjoying the sight. They glanced at her as she stood beside them, and raised their cups in acknowledgement before returning their gazes of the wandering hands, to masculine thighs rubbing against one another.</p><p>“Slaves?” Rhoda started, if only to break the ice. She had let her own gaze return to the spectacle, one of the men sliding his way around to stand behind the other.</p><p>“Yes. Courtesy of Labda Salonia Memor. Do you know of her?” the man in the middle said, as the slave in front stood to his full height. His body flexed, displaying every dip and swell of toned muscle.</p><p>“I don’t,” Rhoda said raising a single eyebrow and glancing to the man briefly; she didn’t even know these two. Neither seemed to notice her look though, and Rhoda returned her gaze to the display as the slave standing behind the other let his hands glide over the sculpted stomach of the one he pressed against. This close she was able to see more details in the masks. The carefully sculpted faces of a nameless man, with close trimmed beard, but a simple and stoic expression.</p><p>“Of course you don’t. While not quite a pleb, you are more comfortable in blood and the taking of slaves than taming them,” the man standing on the left said, and his companion shook his head.</p><p>“Apologies for Pollius here. He has little appreciation for the toil and sweat that comes from honest work,” the man in the middle said as the rear slave’s hands curled around the cock of the other. Both their hips began to move, a purely sexual grinding that certainly had the shaft of one gliding between the cheeks of the other.</p><p>“I have an appreciation for sweat,” Pollius said, and the middle man laughed.</p><p>“Being bent over and ravaged by your wife, or her lover, does not count.”</p><p>Pollius laughed as well, watching as the front most slave’s balls were cupped in firm hands. Even from here Rhoda could see how pampered those two on the platform were. No calluses, no hardship. They looked like sculpted Gods, but she doubted they had any prowess in a fight. Still, they were gorgeous to behold.</p><p>“Apologies again. Labda is a rather prominant woman here in Cyrene. Perhaps one of the wealthiest slave trainers here in Libya. She specializes in... pleasures of the flesh with her slaves, and I daresay her wares are wanted even in Roma,” the middle man said, watching as fingertips glided over the shaved testicles on display for their enjoyment.</p><p>“Is she here tonight?” Rhoda asked as she lifted her cup to her lips and took another long drink. She glanced down, noting only half remained. She’d have to be careful. Getting drunk among the scorpions would not do well for her.</p><p>“She is. The woman over there, in that gorgeous dress,” Pollius said, pulling his gaze away from the two slaves long enough to point across the pool towards the woman that Rhoda had been matching gazes with earlier. The woman was still watching her, instead of the display she had arranged. Even as it grew more heated, the man behind pulling his hips back far enough to aim his cock.</p><p>“And she has eyes for you Centurion,” the middle man said with a laugh, and Rhoda dared another pull of her wine. The smooth liquid swirling over her tongue as the second slave pushed himself forward, his cock entering the other man. The music, the laughter, the conversations, all drowned out the moan. Or perhaps these two were truly that good and where silent. As hips pressed firmly against the tight buttocks of the front slave, cock firmly inside, they began an almost gyrating dance. Their shaved legs moved, gliding over one another.</p><p>“I do believe she does,” Rhoda said, finishing her second wine and turning a smile towards the two men.</p><p>“If you’ll excuse me,” she said, and both men laughed, waving at her as she pushed herself into the crowd.</p><p>Snagging another cup of wine, Rhoda moved through the guests, watching between them all and past the centrally displayed slaves. The woman, Labda, watched with that predatory smirk that held a hint of amusement. She was sipping at her own cup, deep red hair falling around her shoulders. Rhoda wasn’t sure what had her so fascinated with that woman and the dangerous curl of her lips. Perhaps it was simply lust.</p><p>She passed a curtained exit, and glanced towards it. It shifted slightly as she moved past, enough for her to see a young woman leaning against the wall, her fine dress hiked up around her hips. A man on his knees had his tongue buried between her legs. She moaned, and caught Rhoda’s eye for the briefest of moments. Her smile lingered as the centurion continued onwards.</p><p>Around her people conversed, hands gently touching, bodies standing close. Suggestive tones and flirtatious words spilled from the lips of almost everyone as Rhoda made her way around the pool. The display in the centre had transformed now into a purely sexual display of carnal delights. One man’s hands caressing the other as they fucked for the enjoyment of the wealthy. And herself the centurion supposed. Her eyes though stayed upon Labda, who hadn’t moved. Who tracked the soldier with her warm brown eyes.</p><p>By the time Rhoda was standing in front of her, her third cup of wine was nearly drained. Labda was smiling, and lifted her cup towards the centurion.</p><p>“To the guest of honour. Congratulations on all you’ve accomplished,” the slave trainer said, a slight purr in her voice as she spoke. She slid closer to Rhoda, lifting her own cup to her lips. When she lowered her hand, they were glistening with wine.</p><p>“I only did what anyone else in my position would have,” Rhoda said.</p><p>“But no one else was in your position. And those nearby may have, but could they have?” Labda raised an eyebrow, that dangerous and alluring smirk playing on her lips.</p><p>“I never really thought of it.”</p><p>“Of course not. You’re a soldier. Your loyal, courageous,” Labda said, then leaned in and spoke the next words in a near whisper into Rhoda’s ear, “And might I add, quite dashing.”</p><p>The final words were followed by a slow caress of the trainer’s tongue along the centurion’s ear, running slowly from lobe to the top. The closeness had the tips of their breasts pressing together. Rhoda couldn’t contain the low groan that spilled from her lips. She was a little disappointed when Labda pulled away, putting inches between their forms again.</p><p>“But I’ve always enjoyed the company of soldiers. What others may call simple, I call honest. And in my world, and your legate’s world, honesty is a hard to find trait,” Labda said.</p><p>“Honesty is less valued in a battlefield where words are better weapons than swords and spears,” Rhoda said, and Labda smiled.</p><p>“Oh my. Seems you are not naive after all. I had wondered,” Labda said, biting her lip, letting her eyes dip. Her fingers danced along the edge of her cup as her other hand reached out. Fingertips ran upwards from Rhoda’s elbow and along her biceps, exploring the edge of hard earned muscles, eventually lifting the sleeve of the tunic to show the eagle and legion number inked near the shoulder.</p><p>“Perhaps not. Though, I wonder what you want. You’ve been watching me since I stepped in here,” Rhoda said, letting her enjoy the touch, this time taking the step forward herself, feeling the silk of Labda’s dress against the linen of her tunic.</p><p>“You fascinate me. I have had countless come through my gates, and I’ve overseen their trading, but even with their toned bodies they are soft. You are hard, firm. The granite our empire stands upon,” Labda said, her fingers squeezing down feeling the firmness of battle earned muscle. Rhoda did wonder if she was being given empty praise, but she believed that Labda meant the words she said.</p><p>“I do believe you enjoy my work as well,” Labda said, her eyes flickering over towards the two men in the centre whose thrusts were still going. The man in the back reaching around to stroke the one in front, his fingers trailing along the hard shaft, thumb swiping over the head.</p><p>“You’re the one that likes to keep stating I’m a soldier. What do you think?” Rhoda said, throwing little more than a glance towards the carnal theatrics. At that Labda laughed, it was soft and sensual, and her fingers lifted from Rhoda’s arm to run along the cut of her dress. She pulled ever so slightly, widening the view of her cleavage, until Rhoda could see the edge of her areola. She watched those fingers, teasing at the edge of silk, nails running over skin gently. Their closeness had the back of the slaver’s knuckles running over the slope of Rhoda’s own breast, felt even through tunic and brassiere.</p><p>“I think you’d prefer a different kind of flesh. It must not be often you encounter a woman intentionally soft in the Empire. Though, I’m sure you’ve run into plenty when you help expand the borders. I would know, I’ve had many come through my halls,” Labda said as her fingers curled under the curve of her own breast.</p><p>“I do prefer women. Softer women. You’d be surprised how often I can find them,” Rhoda said giving the slaver her own little smirk before taking a sip, finding herself enjoying the slow teasing.</p><p>“Ah. A woman who knows what she wants. I can appreciate that. Perhaps I can interest you in some of my wares?” Labda said, before biting her lip, another slight pull at her dress, fully exposing the nipple. It was dark and stiff, the tip of it running over Rhoda’s tunic. There was a slight gasp from Labda’s lips as the rougher material was run over that sensitive nub of flesh.</p><p>“I could never afford it,” Rhoda said, biting her lip.</p><p>“A shame. Though, seeing how your career is going, that may change. No matter, it seems I’ll just have to get what I want instead,” Labda said, lowering her eyes towards Rhoda’s bust, a single finger trailing over her breast. She took a sip of her own wine, then looked back into Rhoda’s grey eyes.</p><p>“And just what is that?” Rhoda said, her tone huskier now. She still stood, making Labda do the seduction. The slaver laughed, likely knowing the game. Likely often being on the other side. She seemed to be enjoying herself.</p><p>“To get those clothes off of you, and see you, taste you. Every edge, every curve,” Labda purred, her fingers spreading over Rhoda’s breast, and slowly squeezing down. She bit her lip as she did this, watching Rhoda’s lips part, listening for the gasp she heard even through the din of the party.</p><p>The centurion downed her wine, and placed the now empty cup on the tray of a passing slave. She reached forward, grasping Labda’s hips, letting her fingers push back until she felt the soft give of the woman’s rear. She squeezed, just as her breast was. A few glances stole their way, a few smirks and laughs, but Rhoda ignored it. Labda didn’t, grinning wickedly. For her, the show was just as fun it seemed. They were certainly far from the only ones displaying their desires in the room.</p><p>Leaning up, pressing her body firmly against Rhoda’s, Labda’s lips were once again at the soldier’s ear. They brushed against the shell as she spoke.</p><p>“Follow me. I would prefer to savour you in private.”</p><p>With that she began to slip away, her fingers dragging along Rhoda’s neck, curling to let nails tease the skin. Rhoda smiled, letting her own hands slide off the other woman’s hips as she made a gap between them.</p><p>“Come now,” Labda said, her finger running up Rhoda’s neck and along her chin, nail grazing the skin before she turned. Looking over her shoulder with a cock to her hip she watched her latest plaything. Rhoda felt no less, but neither did she care.</p><p>As Labda started to walk, Rhoda followed. The slaver vanished behind one of the silken curtains, her curvy silhouette barely seen. Throwing one last glance around the room, the Centurion found Maera’s amused gaze, then slipped through the curtain herself. Finding herself in a dimly lit hallway, Rhoda glanced in either direction. She took note of a few slaves carrying a jug of wine to her left, but to the right she saw the bouncing curls of Labda’s hair. A final flash of her eyes before she vanished around the corner.</p><p>Rhoda let a small laugh echo through the hall as she followed. Her sandals tapping on the floors as she followed through the halls of the villa, past a few rooms that had become occupied, over a patch of spilled wine and the giggle of a woman enjoying her night.</p><p>Soon enough, Rhoda stepped outside in the warm night air. The buzz and din of the party dying away, replaced by wind and the chirps of insects. A small garden bathed in shadows lay behind the villa, its sides lined with tall hedges, but towards the back was a marble deck with a bannister that looked over the city. A few benches and tables sat upon it, empty for the moment. Breathing in the night air, Rhoda smiled, savouring the scents of the garden.</p><p>Taking a few steps out from the light spilling out the back door of the villa, Rhoda peered around her. The dark blue hues that hung over everything giving it an air of mystery. But it did not take long to find Ladba, standing near a hedge. She was smiling, beckoning to the centurion, who felt her legs moving without proper conscious though.</p><p>“Romantic,” Rhoda said as she got close, and Labda laughed, reaching up to brush an errant strand of hair back over the centurion’s ear, joining the rest of her braid.</p><p>“I was going for more... erotic,” Labda said, grasping the front of Rhoda’s belt and pulling, but she moved instead of the centurion, her slender form pressing tightly against Rhoda’s firmer one. The woman gasped, strands of hair falling over her face, as Rhoda ran her hands up from her rear to her shoulders.</p><p>“Erotic works too,” the centurion said, her fingers sliding under the straps of the woman’s dress, thumbs hooking over top. She smiled, then leaned down to press her lips to the other woman’s. She tasted wine, and soon felt a tongue teasing at her.</p><p>Mouth parting, feeling the flick muscle pushing into the kiss, Rhoda let her hands slide down Labda’s arms. The straps slid off her shoulders, and Rhoda pushed them further. Silk dragged along Labda’s skin, off her breasts, until the straps had slid over her hands and the garment was hugging around her hips.</p><p>The slaver’s arms went up, curling around the back of Rhoda’s neck as their tongues glided across one another, lips caressing. For a few moments, Rhoda explored the other woman’s back, feeling the smooth, unblemished skin. Fingertips dragging downwards, from shoulder blades to hips, and back upwards, savouring the feel of a woman in her arms. A woman untouched by physical hardship. A rarity in Rhoda’s circles. The muffled groans she felt more than heard were testament to Labda’s enjoyment.</p><p>She let her hands glide downwards again, but didn’t stop at the hips. Instead her fingers slipped beneath the clinging silk of the dress, and she pushed downwards. Labda groaned again, her fingers starting to work at Rhoda’s braid, locks of hair coming loose.</p><p>Rhoda went slow, inching the garment downwards, feeling the plush flesh of Labda’s rear under her fingers, then her palms. Gliding over her perfect cheeks until the dress was around the thighs and had nothing to grasp to. It fell to the garden’s floor, and Labda lifted one leg upwards. Her thigh ran along Rhoda’s skin then the hem of her tunic, until the leg hooked around the back of Rhoda’s thighs.</p><p>Letting her hands glide again, feeling the bared flesh of Labda’s ass, Rhoda found her thighs, and lifted. The slaver all but jumped, wrapping her legs around the centurion, never once breaking the kiss, groaning into it, letting it grow hungrier. The tongues delving deeper. Flesh against linen.</p><p>Stepping away from the dress, Rhoda held the slender woman up. Felt her grinding against her within her arms. Felt the pressure of her breasts, and the heat of her loins. The soldier let out a groan of her own. Hungry and lustful as her braid was undone. The simple leather thong tying off the end dropped to the ground as the rest of her locks tumbled down across her neck and shoulders.</p><p>Fingers slid through the freed locks, nails against Rhoda’s scalp. It elicited a low moan, muffled by their tongues and pressed lips, and a sound of success echoed from Labda. She continued a slow and gentle massage, Rhoda’s neat hair soon turning to a wild mess. She couldn’t bring herself to care. Not for tonight.</p><p>Then Labda’s legs pushed downwards. Rhoda let her arms run upwards again, and let the woman down. Their kiss broke, and Rhoda bit at Labda’s lower lip, pulling slightly, eliciting a low moan from the slaver. It was a beautiful sound, clear now. Lashing her tongue over the trapped flesh, Rhoda finally let go, and Labda slowly ran her tongue over the indents left in its wake.</p><p>“Undo your belt, and take your tunic off,” Labda said, taking a few steps back, slowly turning to allow Rhoda to properly take in her form. To enjoy the sight of bared flesh curving at hips and waist, breasts peaked with dark nipples sloping at her chest. A hint of her shaved sex, before a tilt of the hips showed the rounded orb of her rear.</p><p>Holding in a foolish grin, Rhoda instead simply let her lips curl slightly. She deftly undid her belt and set it aside, careful not to drop her sword. Then her fingers curled around the hem of her tunic and lifted upwards.</p><p>Biting her lip, Labda turned her head to watch. Her eyes following the rise of linen upwards, over lean thighs, her shaved sex, the rippling hardness of her abs, to the undersides of her bust. Still the tunic carried upwards, revealing Rhoda’s breasts to Labda’s hungry eyes, and then off and over the head. This she let fall to the ground, watching as Labda’s lips were released from her teeth.</p><p>“Oh, Minerva has certainly had her hand in sculpting you,” Labda said, turning her body towards the soldier and moving towards her. Her eyes roamed and when she got close she let her fingers run upwards along Rhoda’s form.</p><p>With a small laugh, Rhoda shook her head, dragging her fingers upwards along Labda’s thighs to her hips. She pulled her close and the merchant of flesh gasped. She looked upwards a moment at Rhoda’s face, before letting her eyes run downwards.</p><p>“You certainly know how to flatter,” Rhoda said.</p><p>“I do, but the best flattery is always truth. I have seen much bared skin, many women and men shed of clothes. Have trained many in arts to pleasure. But it is not often I get to see something so, genuine,” Labda purred, her tongue running from the top of Rhoda’s breast to her neck, and upwards, pulling a new moan from the centurion.</p><p>“Well, Venus has certainly shown her hand in you,” Rhoda said, feeling her head tilted back slightly.</p><p>“Who’s flattering now?”</p><p>Baring teeth, Labda ran them over the sharp edge of Rhoda’s jawline, and felt fingers grip her rear once again in response. Tilting her head downwards, Rhoda pressed her lips again to the woman. They had drifted through the garden, the dress much further than the sword and tunic.</p><p>Then Labda broke the kiss. She disentangled herself from the grip, and chewed on her lip.</p><p>“Lay down,” she purred, and Rhoda followed the direction.</p><p>She felt the cool grass against her skin as she looked up at the woman. The matrician slowly moved forward, and got down onto her hands and knees. Looking over her own body at her, Rhoda raised an eyebrow. A pair of fingers on the straps of her sandals soon had her legs parting, and Labda let out a soft purr as she continued to crawl.</p><p>Lips pressed first to Rhoda’s leg, tongue slipping out to taste, to please. Labda slowly, and carefully worked her way along the muscles shaping Rhoda’s thighs. She skipped past her sex entirely to move upwards over her hip, letting her fingers play with the one her lips left unattended.</p><p>Tilting her head back, Rhoda groaned softly, letting her eyes flutter. A shutter between starlight and darkness, savouring the slow exploration of her body. Labda moved further upwards, her breasts running along Rhoda’s legs. Her lips, her tongue, and even her teeth discovered every dip in the centurion’s abs. Her nails and the heels of her hands ran along her sides, ghosting over the skin. Locks of curled hair dragged as the woman moved higher, the stiffness of her nipples grinding into the soldier beneath her.</p><p>Hands reaching up under the arms, Labda pushed them upwards. Rhoda felt her own fingers touching the hedge, the blades of grass at her wrists and forearms. But it was the tongue now gliding over the bottom curve of each breast in turn that pulled new groans from her. Gliding and leaving warm wet trails before curling around each nipple. Her hair teased across Rhoda’s chest as she moved between each rising slope of flesh. Labda’s own breasts pressing down against Rhoda’s stomach.</p><p>Whatever strange curiosity was egging on the slaver, Rhoda was more than happy to let her explore it.</p><p>A proper moan finally came free when teeth clamped around a nipple. As tongue lashed against the trapped bud, teeth pulling slightly, Labda’s nails dragging along Rhoda’s biceps. Moving with the curve of her muscles and to her shoulders, before pushing back upwards. The centurion moaned hungrily, savouring the attentions as they continued and Labda moved to the next nipple.</p><p>She repeated the motions, again, and again. Drawing out the sounds of pleasure from Rhoda’s lips, savouring them. Savouring the faint taste of sweat and lingering oil from her bathing. Pulling away from the peak of Rhoda’s breast, Labda glanced upwards. She smiled, her fingers resting at Rhoda’s elbows.</p><p>“As I said, sculpted by Minerva,” she said, placing a kiss between the soldier’s breasts, and starting to work her way back downwards.</p><p>The journey downwards was just as slow and deliberate. Exploring everything, her tongue swirling around Rhoda’s navel before continuing further down. The centurion’s fingers ran along the leaves of the hedge, allowing the woman now nearly between her legs to continue her explorations unimpeded.</p><p>The planted kisses grew more deliberate as Labda worked her way lower. Down the final stretch of the abdomen towards the groin. Her tongue dragged across the freshly shaved pubic mound, teasing towards the edges of Rhoda’s vulva. Her fingers curled tightly above her head with the mounting anticipation, knuckles passing across the leaves above her.</p><p>Pausing, Labda glanced upwards. Her eyes passing over the expanse of skin that now glistened from the explorations of her tongue. Watched the rise and fall of breasts as Rhoda shuddered from the warm breath washing over her sex. The woman smiled, enjoying the display.</p><p>After waiting a few heartbeats, and savouring a few more of those rises and falls, Labda dipped her head back down. Her tongue gliding over Rhoda’s sex, running from her clit to her entrance, running along those lips. She savoured the sound of the centurion’s moan, carrying through the garden.</p><p>As her tongue danced and moved through the slickness of Rhoda’s arousal, Labda finally picked up her speed. Faster, and occasionally delving inside, tasting the tart flavours of her womanhood. She flicked every time her tongue moved towards Rhoda’s clit, earning a hungry moan, the soldier’s legs starting to bend. Her heels soon running up the back of Labda’s rear, to her back. The sandals an almost harsh compliment to the soft pleasures of fingertips and tongue.</p><p>Nails continued to play along Rhoda’s sides, and the centurion resisted the urge to reach downwards, to grasp those curly locks swaying between her legs. Instead she moaned, her back starting to arch, pushing her breasts upwards towards the stars. Her breath came faster and faster as pleasure and heat rose upwards from her loins. From the dancing slickness of Labda’s tongue. From the gentle caress of lips that contrasted with the whip like flicks and quick drags of the tongue.</p><p>She swore at the sky, feeling those pleasure’s reaching their peak. Her heels pressed firmly into Labda’s back, forcing the woman’s stomach firmly against the grass. But still her tongue didn’t stop, listening to Rhoda’s hungry moans. Tasting her fluids smearing across her lips, her chin. The slaver closed her eyes, feeling, listening. Guiding Rhoda through her orgasm, towards her climax.</p><p>When the soldier finally started to come down from the heights of her pleasure, her legs sliding off Labda’s form, the matrician lifted her head. She smiled upwards, though Rhoda didn’t see it. She stared above, into the night sky instead. Until she felt Labda crawling up her form. No kisses this time, just feline movements, breasts grazing.</p><p>Pausing just above the soldier, Labda looked down at her, letting her see the smile. Letting her see skin smeared with the fluids of her pleasure. She remained like that a moment, her eyes roaming Rhoda’s face, then leaned down for a kiss.</p><p>Opening her mouth to the kiss, Labda let the centurion taste herself. Taste the flavours of her arousal and climax. For a few heartbeats their tongues danced once again, until the tart tastes began to dissipate. A small string of saliva connected their lips for a brief moment before Labda was on hands and knees above Rhoda again.</p><p>The centurion moved to sit up, but stopped when she felt a single finger pressing down against her sternum. She glanced down at it a moment, before letting her eyes return to the beauty above.</p><p>“No my dear soldier of Amazonia. Tonight you were proclaimed the guest of honour. But... it would be remiss to not return my favour,” Labda purred, crawling further upwards, her body rising until she was sitting atop Rhoda’s bust.</p><p>Running her fingers along her chin, Labda took a moment to suck each clean, and then smirked down at Rhoda.</p><p>“It would be,” Rhoda said, her fingertips running along Labda’s thighs.</p><p>The matrician smiled, all but silhouetted against the moonlight. She lifted her hips and moved forward upon her knees until her womanhood hovered just above Rhoda’s lips. The centurion bit her lips this time, managing to tilt her head enough to gaze upwards along Labda’s form. She savoured the view, the shadows throw over her curves with the moon at her back.</p><p>Then hands moved to the slaver’s hips, grasping tight. Rhoda pulled her down until she could taste her, her tongue already delving into the depths of her sex. Labda moaned hungrily, her hips starting to rock atop Rhoda’s face, riding her tongue and grinding against her lips. Dragging her fingertips along thighs and Labda’s ass, Rhoda let her tongue work in concert with the motion of her hips.</p><p>It was the matrician’s moans that now filled the garden, as her hands explored her own form. Tweaking at her breasts, fondling herself as she rode the centurion’s face. Savouring each thrust of tongue, each scrape of nail on flesh, each graze of lip upon her clit. She threw her head back, moaning to the sky, hair cascading down her back, bouncing and dancing along her skin.</p><p>As Rhoda’s tongue pushed her into orgasm, Labda pitched forward. Her hands dug into the soil, and her back curved. She let out screams of pleasure, the sound carrying off the cliffs looking over the city. Until she could take no more.</p><p>Sliding off to the side, pulling herself from Rhoda’s grip, Labda laid beside the soldier. Her panting joined the soldiers, and the two of them stared upwards towards the sky as the sensations started to fade. The sweat on their skin glistened in the moonlight, the heat starting to cool as the breeze kissed them.</p><p>A small laugh, and Rhoda stood up, looking out beyond the lights and flat roofed buildings of the city, into the expanse of the desert. Running a hand through her hair, she pushed the locks back from her face, and turned back to look at Labda, whose alluring little smirk was back.</p><p>“Already to go again? Oh the vitality you must have,” she purred, running a tongue over her lips.</p><p>“Surely you’re not already done,” Rhoda said, her eyes scanning for her clothes, finding them a few paces away.</p><p>“No. But, I could certainly use some more wine,” she said, sitting up, arms curled around her knees, hiding herself.</p><p>“That’s inside,” Rhoda said.</p><p>“Perhaps with you next lover of the evening,” Labda said, finally rising, and moving over to kiss Rhoda’s cheek.</p><p>“Tonight’s about you. You’re own private triumph. Enjoy it, be the hero,” she said, moving to gather her dress, quickly slipping back into it.</p><p>“There were a lot of heroes out there,” Rhoda said with a frown.</p><p>“Of course. But that’s not politics. And what do you think this all is? Come now, don’t make me change my opinion of you now,” Labda said, her naked back to the centurion. Rhoda watched her hike it back up into place, slipping the straps over her shoulders again.</p><p>“As I said Rhoda, this may be a game and a show, but you might as well enjoy yourself,” Labda said, smoothing her dress and throwing one last smirk towards the woman who’d just been between her legs. “I certainly intend to.”</p><p>With those final words she walked back inside, leaving Rhoda naked in the gardens. She turned to look back out into the deserts. Just beyond the city limits she saw the legion camp. The walls erected perfectly, the towers at their corners and the gates. Barrels of wine were likely being served to them all. Likely a few prostitutes making the rounds for those not on duty.</p><p>“Fuck it. She’s not wrong,” Rhoda said to herself, gathering her tunic and sword, and throwing them on before heading back into the party.</p><p>Another cup of wine awaited.</p>
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